


Thoughtful

by SBlackmane



Series: Lion, 9:41 Dragon [7]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gift Giving, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 18:42:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16498130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBlackmane/pseuds/SBlackmane
Summary: Cullen attempts to replace Adaar's missing pipe.





	Thoughtful

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist :D

To Cullen's exasperation, smoking pipes were easily the most elusive items in all of Thedas to procure at the drop of a hat. He didn't know why he thought it would be easy, considering this very moment in time Adaar suffered without one, but he had hoped that it was no more than an oversight. However, Cullen Rutherford was sadly mistaken. He asked the requisitions officer first and foremost, as often requests such as non-uniform clothing, soap, razors, combs, and other miscellaneous effects were also given to the Quartermaster to fill.

They suggested the vendors, but none of Skyhold's vendors had any in stock. Bonny, however, was kind enough to suggest a retailer in Orlais, and even offered to order one - handcrafted and specially made, to boot - but it would take weeks to deliver. Cullen didn't have weeks. He approached Josephine next to inquire of a faster means of delivery, as Josephine was quite savvy at procuring such items; she was the miracle behind their endless supply of parchment, ink, and quills with which to write the insane number of reports day to day.

But Josephine had nothing better to suggest. "I wasn't aware that you smoked," she prodded, as Cullen stood before her desk in the office outside the war room, and he shook his head.

"It's for a friend," he corrected. She said nothing, but gave him a look.

"Master Tethras might know where to find one," she suggested. "Perhaps you can ask him?"

Cullen bristled a little at the dwarf's mention. Indeed, Varric was well connected and always seemed to have those sorts of items on hand, always knew where to get them. But the Commander wasn't looking forward to owing Varric any sort of favor, of which no doubt he would, somehow. He just didn't understand why the task of locating a smoking apparatus had to be so Maker-damned difficult. It wasn't as if he were buying Lyrium on the black market. It was just a pipe. But perhaps there was a grand design at work here.

If Cullen didn't need it, it would be so easy to find, but as his luck would have it, the moment he needed something, said item was nowhere to be found.

He sighed, nodded, bid good day to Josephine, and searched out Varric next.

He found the writer in his usual nook, a spot by the hearth in the Great Hall. An advantageous position; he could see all the comings and goings at Skyhold, all the nobles visiting, the occasional fan of his work, as well as hear the latest gossip as it spread. It meant he was one of the first people to know everything, and the most likely to be correctly informed of something, as he watched it unfold. Close to the warmth of the fire, in a comfortable chair, as well as conveniently already present the moment midmorning meals were served.

The wisecracking Kirkwall native was writing in a journal, and at first guess, Cullen assumed he was working on his novella of the Inquisition's journey thus far. He did mention he would write about it, and he had quite a lot to pen to paper already. A Tal-Vashoth miraculously walking out of the Fade, supposedly cast out of time by a Tevinter Magister, taking on an army of Red Templars, then a dragon single-handedly. Miraculously surviving an avalanche, and seemingly returning from the dead a second time.

Varric would embellish, of course. Cullen had read _Tale of the Champion_ , and knew in all likelihood not half of it was true. He'd oversold the Champion's heroic deeds. But of course, the _Tale_ was no historical account, but rather a fictitious lie told to entertain. It was to be expected. It unnerved Cullen, however. Varric made him look far more decent than he'd actually been. He made Cullen seem so virtuous; forced to concede to Meredyth's harsh demands, but finally standing up to her when he saw her corruption first hand.

Not that he didn't turn away from her orders, but the actual event was far less riveting, and far more disparaging than the fiction. Far less pivotal of a moment, and the Commander resented that. He watched Varric scribble with his quill for a moment before approaching him. The dwarf furrowed his brow in concentration, then reached up to rub his temple. "What are you writing?" Cullen finally asked, curious, drawing him out of thought and he glanced up. Quickly he plastered a smile, as if he were so happy to see him.

"Curly," he greeted, and Cullen wrinkled his nose a little at the nickname. He fought the urge to fiddle with his hair at its mention. "Have a seat," Varric offered, pointing to the chair across from him. "Take a load off." Cullen strode over to the chair in question and sat down, leaning back, just as Varric was grumbling, "The next chapter of my romance serial, if you can believe it." He set down the journal. The Commander did a double take. He was writing more _Swords & Shields_? He thought he'd long abandoned that ship. "As a favor for the Inquisitor."

Cullen quirked a brow. He had not expected to hear _that_. "The Inquisitor?"

"Heh, yeah, apparently a mutual friend of ours is a fan of my work."

"Who?"

"Oh no," Varric shook his head. "Not telling you. Because if I tell you, you'll run and tell her, and then ruin the surprise. Can't have that, can we?...So, what do you need?"

Cullen sighed. "I have a favor to ask."

"Oh?" Varric perked up, genuinely interested now. "What sort of favor?"

Cullen reached to run a hand through his hair. "Do you know where I might find a smoking pipe?" he asked. Varric arched a brow.

"You smoke?"

"No, but a mutual friend of ours has need of one. I'm afraid if he goes any longer without one, he'll give poor Josephine a heart attack from all the stress."

"Ah, the Inquisitor, I'm guessing?" Varric asked, and Cullen nodded. "Does he know you've been scouring all of Skyhold for a pipe?"

"How did you know I was..." Cullen trailed off. _Of course_. Varric was the first to know everything. He and Leliana would make quite the pair. Cullen sighed in defeat. "No. I had hoped to surprise him with it, actually."

"How _thoughtful_ of you."

All the while he spoke, Varric had this eerie smile, like he knew something Cullen didn't, and it grated on his nerves. Knowing it would be pointless to take his ire out on Varric - and counterproductive, considering he needed Varric's help - he bit the inside of his cheek and held his tongue. "Yes, it would seem you're not the only one full of surprises today," he said instead, and Varric chuckled. "It would take weeks to have one delivered, but I was wondering if you might have a better alternative."

Varric pondered that for a moment before shrugging. "Well, I had Herrit make mine," he said, pulling a bronze version of Adaar's old pipe from his pocket. Cullen took a moment to admire the craftsmanship, the reflection of the flame dancing across the shining metal.

"How soon could he make another?"

Varric glanced at the ceiling in thought, then said, "Well, give or take cost and availability of materials, he could have it done by the end of the day."

"So soon?" Cullen gaped, sitting forward in his seat.

"Yeah the man's got quite a talent there," Varric smirked, tucking his pipe back in his coat pocket. Then he studied Cullen for a moment. "Tell ya what, Curly, you help me? I'll help you. I need someone to run interference for me, that is, provided you can keep a secret." _Like you wouldn't believe_ , Cullen absently thought. "I'll make sure the Inquisitor never hears about your surprise gift, _if_...you make sure the _Seeker_ never hears about _mine_." Cullen's brows shot up at that, but he clamped his mouth shut and nodded.

"I can do that," he agreed, but his face had turned red and he chuckled, smearing a hand across it. Cassandra Pentaghast reading a romance serial? "Oh, that explains a lot," he muttered.

"I know, right?!" Varric laughed. "I never would've guessed it!"

"I should've," Cullen grinned. "You don't know the Seeker like I do."

Varric quirked an interested brow at this, but Cullen was quite certain he'd made enough confessions for one day.

Varric took the hint and simply said, "I'm not sure I _want_ to know the Seeker like you do. I think any more exposure and I'll be learning how to write with broken fingers." Cullen winced at that. He'd get into a debate about Varric lying to Cassandra, but it wasn't worth the effort. At the moment, he would rather walk away from conversation having made another friend, than another enemy. And he did. Varric offered to speak to Herrit, and Cullen resolved to keep Cassandra occupied that afternoon so he could write.

All in all, it went far better than expected.

But having Varric's help was only the start of the affair. He wouldn't be able to rely on the imaginative dwarf alone. He needed an artist's touch, as he'd a thought in mind, but no talent whatsoever at penning that thought to paper. But Solas, on the other hand, had quite the artistic talent, so Cullen had noticed. Every time he passed through the tower on the way to his office, he'd catch sight of Solas painting a mural on the first floor. He also noticed the pile of sketches on the table he used as reference.

After concluding his meeting with Varric, he went there next, hoping that Solas would have a moment to sketch something to give to Herrit. "Commander," the apostate greeted suavely when he approached, clasping his hands together. Cullen nodded in return. Solas was used to seeing Cullen pass through on the way to somewhere, but rarely did he ever have the time to stop to chat. Solas always made him nervous. Perhaps a bit less so than the Tevinter mage just above them on the second floor, but he was still a bit unsettling, nonetheless.

The prickling sensation he felt whenever a mage was nearby was muted, grew more and more dull the longer he went without Lyrium, but it was still present. At every turn, he'd proven his value to the Inquisition, but Cullen knew just by standing near him he was quite the powerful spellcaster. But just like the Inquisitor, that overwhelming pull of Lyrium was not present within Solas. It was only his magic that discomforted Cullen. A reasonable fear. One that every man and woman had when faced with something unpredictable.

Putting on a mask of calm, Cullen summed up what he wished to say, and simply asked, "Can you keep a secret?"

Solas eyed him curiously at that question.

After discussing the details of Cullen's request - one that Solas found to be slightly amusing, and even mildly entertaining - and after seeing the incredible rendition of Cullen's idea, the Commander then sent word to Cassandra and invited her to lunch in the garden, leaving the main hall free of her presence for Varric's sake. Without Cassandra breathing down his neck, he could complete the chapter and surprise her with it sooner rather than later. And while Cullen kept her occupied in the garden, so Varric and Solas would do with Adaar.

Yes, Solas was in on their little scheme now too. He readily agreed to seeing the Inquisitor's gift made. He was to leave Skyhold as well and travel with the Tal-Vashoth to the Emerald Graves. Adaar wanted his expertise on ancient elven lore, and Solas wanted as stress-free a journey as they could possibly manage. He'd also noticed Adaar's agitation as of late, and also thought Cullen's gift was... _thoughtful_. Yes, he'd used the same word as Varric. Cullen couldn't help but feel as if there were a double meaning in that, but...

Nevertheless, Solas was a helpful assistant in the matter as well, and while he couldn't blab to the Seeker about Varric's book, he could certainly tell her about Adaar's pipe over lunch in the garden. He described the drawing, and watched her face light up and a smile spread across it. She thought it was sweet. Also _thoughtful_ , but very sweet. Of course, she knew the real reason Cullen wanted to extend the gesture, without his saying so. He didn't know if he could yet find the courage to speak his mind to Adaar, but gift giving was a good start, she said.

It was a heartfelt gesture, even if it wasn't the typical romantic one. He wanted to blurt out a comment about her ideas of romantic gestures obviously coming from Varric's book, but wouldn't dare. He'd sworn an oath of secrecy. She would cuff him if she found out he knew about the book and didn't tell her. But it was true, that he didn't know anything about romance. Much less did he know how to romance an eight foot tall dragon of a man. Perhaps if he were Qunari he could ask Bull about their rituals, but this wasn't the case.

They spent a good portion of their lunch hour discussing sword and shield techniques after that, until a runner approached and Cullen was needed elsewhere. Apparently the message couldn't wait until he'd concluded his meal, and when he broke open the seal he understood why. It was Harding's report on the situation in the Graves. Adaar would need to leave as soon as possible if he wanted to get the jump on Samson's operation. And meanwhile they needed to recruit an arcanist capable of studying Red Lyrium without effect.

The rest of the afternoon would be spent organizing their efforts, and assigning men to the area, available to move out the moment the Inquisitor was ready to depart. But he'd succeeded in keeping Cassandra away from the main hall to the best of his ability. She would immediately retreat to the armory to gather her things, and ready herself for the next mission. He could only hope that Herrit had succeeded in making a pipe for the Inquisitor without his knowledge of it.

The parcel was delivered to his office just after sundown. Set upon his desk, wrapped in brown parchment and cinched neatly with twine. While the packaging was nothing to crow about, the item tucked inside was an absolute marvel. Cullen unwound the cord and unwrapped the bundle to gaze upon a polished and gleaming ebony pipe darned with tiny golden filigree. It was masterfully crafted, specific to his design, and the note from Herrit attached said, "He'd better like it, for I'll not go through all that a second time."

To which Cullen chuckled, then set down the note as he pocketed the pipe.

Now all that was left was to finally deliver said item into the kossith's waiting hands.

Well, everyone else said it was a nice gesture, very _thoughtful_ of him.

He hoped by everything holy the Inquisitor felt the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh yeah. Everyone _totally_ knows why Cullen did it. XD


End file.
